No Tears Allowed
by CrystalDreams72
Summary: I am really bad at Summaries but I will let my story speak for itself. Another story about how Vegeta and Bulma get together. Please let me know what you think. ON HIATUS.


**AN: Okay so I have read many of these fan fictions about how Vegeta and Bulma end up together. To be honest a lot of them are good, and a lot of them are bad. Heck for all I know mine may be bad as well lol. I decided to write my own version of it, and hopefully it isn't horrible. I am really bad a summeries, but hopefully you guys can get past that lol. Please let me know what you think. Also please excuse the fact that this story is going to be slowly written. I can't update that quickly on it. Let me know what you guys think, and thanks for reading**. **Also please ignore mistakes. I am write for fun, not to be perfect.**

She sat still at the empty dining room table staring intently at the opposite wall. Her hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of tea, ignoring the pain that she felt from the burning porcelain cup. Her mind was occupied by a worse mental pain that helped ignore the physical pain of her hands. A tear slipped past her guard, again. It trailed down her pale cheek and disappeared off her chin. She swallowed hard and turned her eyes to look at her reflection in her tea.

Her tear streaked face was trembling in the liquid as she stared back at herself. Why was the liquid not staying still? She realized then that it was because her hands were shaking. She let go of the cup finally, not because it burned her skin too much, but because she needed to try to calm her tremors. It was a hard feat to accomplish though. No matter how much she tried, her hands still had a slight quiver that she couldn't rid.

Her blue eyebrows stitched together as she stared at her hands in defeat. This was her fault, and it was her fault why she couldn't even control her own body. Just like it was her fault that _he_ left, he spared her no expense in letting her know it either. She tried to block her mind to it, but she couldn't. It happened just this morning so it was going to be hard to forget. More tears started to slide down her cheeks. She thought she had been out of tears, turns out she was wrong.

She sobbed loudly and her shoulders shook with her sob. Yamacha had broken up with her this morning. The man she had been so sure she would spend the rest of her life with just spoke the words that ended their future together this morning after he had already packed all of his things. The worst of it all was it was her fault.

When she didn't understand why he was leaving he graciously said one word: Vegeta. She didn't understand but after he explained it further she saw his reasoning. She did not like his reasons, nor did she agree, but she understood why he felt the way he did. She treated Vegeta differently. She tried to explain it was only because she felt pity for the man, but Yamacha only shook his head at her. He told her cut and dry that it was more than that because she was always remarking how good looking the Saiyan was.

Her face fell now, just as it had then. She did say on more than several occasions that the Prince was attractive. She then understood that while she was just being playful and flirtatious to another because that was her nature she was destroying what she shared with the love of her life. Yet after Yamacha explained it all to her, she realized it wasn't her nature. She truly did treat the Saiyan differently than she did anyone else. She treated him as if she liked him.

Her first argument was that she must do it because she was threatened by Vegeta, that his presence scared her into submission. All that got her was a laugh from the man leaving her. If she was truly fearful of Vegeta then she wouldn't tell the man to his face that he was cute. She also knew that she wasn't afraid of him. Vegeta was a force to be reckoned with but he was different now. He scared her once, on Namek, but now they were on Earth and things had changed. It was also a poor argument on her side to even try to make it out like she was afraid of Vegeta, just yesterday they got into a yelling match at breakfast in which Bulma stood her ground against the man. Vegeta could easily kill her, but she did not seem to let that fact bother her in the least.

Without saying it she was horrified that she didn't even know she had been doing it, but worse that after the seed was planted she couldn't deny that she in fact had a smoldering crush on the dangerous Prince of all Saiyans. She pleaded with Yamacha that she would stop, and change, but the damage was far too great that even a wish from the Dragon Balls couldn't fix it. He had already made up his mind, and made his peace that he wanted to remain her friend because he still loved her, but they would never be able to be more than that.

"_I love you, Bulma. I really do, but I can only be your friend. I felt even before I was killed that our fire was burning out. We have only ever been together. I really think we need to explore, I really do. I just hope that you don't turn to Vegeta. I will always love you, and I hope you find someone who will treat you right. Just please stay away from that man…_"

Even now his words swirled around her head right before he left. She had sat near the door most of the day hoping he would come back. After a few hours she understood that he was not coming back. That is when the tears started, and even now four hours later, they still found a way to not let up. She put her head into her hands and cried. Why had she not noticed that she treated Vegeta differently? She had even sunk into letting the Prince away with things that she scolded Yamacha about.

"You are a dummy…" she cried into her hands. How could she have let these things happen to her? She planned on marrying Yamacha. He was going to be her husband, the father of her children, he was going to be the man she died with… She sobbed in a mental pain so great that she was sure if she wasn't already sitting she would have fallen out of her chair.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He exited the gravity chamber, dripping with sweat and fearsome strength. He could feel himself growing stronger. He was determined to reach his goal of surpassing Kakarot. He had every intention of doing just that as well. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension that resided in his tired muscles as he breathed in the cool night air.

Immediately he knew something was wrong. He couldn't smell his dinner. He sniffed the air to assure that the many scents he usually smelled around this hour were in fact missing. To his disdain he proved himself right. A growl caught in his throat. What could possibly be the asinine reason behind his dinner not being cooked?

He started his march towards the house and stopped at the sliding glass door that was the entrance into the kitchen. No one occupied it and that made him frown. That annoying servant woman should be standing right there cooking his meal. Yet she was not there. The space was empty just like his stomach. He gritted his teeth and made to open the door. He stopped when he heard something from inside the house.

It was a pitiful noise that sounded like a dying animal. His dark brows furrowed together as he tried to understand the noise he was hearing. It nearly sounded like a sound he had heard almost a lifetime ago. He had killed many in his life and sometimes before he would blast someone they would cry, a dreadful thing to do when facing death. Yes, that noise sounded a lot like the crying of a worthless soul that was about to meet its end.

He entered the house and slowly closed the door behind him. He followed the noise like a silent predator. He made no noise at all and he was surprised to find what his sense's led him to. The servant woman sat at the table that should have been piled with food for him, with her head in her hands sobbing. He frowned in disgust. It was a pathetic scene that he was witnessing.

At the same time though, it made his stomach knot. He did not feel anything other than curiosity towards the female. He had seen this woman happy, mad, furious, joyful, and a number of other emotions but he had never witnessed her being sad. What was so wrong that she chose to sit here and be weak instead of making sure the Prince was well fed?

"You are a dummy…" she sobbed suddenly.

The fine hairs stood up on the back of his neck in anger. She had the nerve this woman. He knew he had his faults but he was by far not an imbecile!

"Woman! Who the hell do you think you are talking to?" he growled as he crossed his strong arms over his chest.

She sprung to her feet instantly in what appeared to be fright. Fervently with the back of her hand she wiped away the dampness on her face as her cerulean blue eyes met his. Around the edges of her eyes were red and swollen. Her eyes themselves were bloodshot, and he had his answer, she was indeed crying. But about what? He wouldn't ask though, he didn't care enough to.

Her mouth hung open as if she was going to say something but eventually, and uncharacteristically she shut it. That peeked his curiosity. Usually she would be throwing words at him, her only way to battle, but nothing came from her mouth.

"I asked you a question, who do you think you are speaking to," this time he did not ask, he demanded.

"I was speaking to myself. I thought I was alone." Her tone was dejected and it grated on his ears more than any tone she had ever taken with him. He could barely stand her shrill screams, or her blusterous laughter, but her sadness nearly made him flee because it hurt so much. He raised a lip in a snarl and backed away a few feet from where he stood. He did not like this one bit. He was not one to deal with things like this, and it unnerved him.

Yet after a moment her words actually took form in his mind. She had not been calling him a dummy, she had been calling herself one. That brought a smile to his face. It was about time the woman realized what she was. He had only been trying to tell her ever since he started living here under the same roof with her. Now if only she would realize the same about the weakling that clung to her like a lost… lost…. WHATEVER that damned four legged creature was.

"Well it is about time you realized what you were. That weakling is no different. No wonder you two are so… attached," he said with a laugh. He wasn't oblivious though. At the mention of the one named Yamacha, her face fell and a new round of tears slowly crawled down her cheeks. Vegeta perked up a bit at the sight of her tears. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her curiously.

"You are wrong Vegeta. I am the only dummy here," she whispered more to herself than to him. Yet he heard her because he had excellent hearing.

"No you are wrong woman, that man is an idiot just like you! Don't ever forget it either! And while you now know you are an imbecile, I want to know why instead of having this revelation, why aren't you cooking my dinner?" He growled every bit of that to her. She lowered her head and more tears slipped down her face.

"I am sorry Vegeta, I forgot," she said as she started to walk towards him. He moved out of her way so she could enter the kitchen and get to work. The air felt thick and he almost struggled to breath in it. She had never said sorry to him about anything. He wasn't sure if he liked the sound of her saying it. He had become so accustomed to her being snide with him that he didn't know how to react to her not giving him a hard time. It was as if her defiance was snuffed out like someone blowing a candle out.

He rested against the doorway that was the joint to the dining room and kitchen, and watched her work silently. Her shoulders were slouched low and she hung her head as she began to pull pots from their cabinet home.

"Is there anything in particular that you might want to eat?" she asked. He narrowed his eyes at her back. This was not only the first time she had ever apologized to him, this was the first time she ever asked him what he wanted to eat. He didn't think he liked that she wanted to please him suddenly when this entire time she should have been pleasing him instead of annoying him. He knew something was wrong and he was swiftly finding himself interested in the reasons behind the attitude change that he didn't know if he liked.

"Make me a lot of whatever the hell you can fix quickly," he demanded as he sat down at the little table in the kitchen. He watched her nod and began pulling out things to fix him from the refrigerator. His eyes burned into her back as she worked. After a few minutes the thick air started to smell like food and that made his stomach growl with anticipation.

He started to grow impatient and that is when he realized there was something else missing about this night other than an already prepared meal. The weakling was not pestering him ruthlessly. He sat back in his chair and frowned as he tried to sense if the weakling's ki to see if he was nearby. He didn't feel it anywhere close.

"Where is the weakling?" he found himself asking. He didn't really care where the man was, but what made the man who was always here to nag him suddenly not be here to nag him? Her hesitation was evident to him as she stopped cutting the meat she had been working with and just stood there. Finally the knife she had been holding fell from her trembling hand, which drew his attention to the fact that her hand was shaking. The knife fell to the floor in a loud clank, nearly missing her bare foot by an inch.

He then heard her sob as she slowly slipped to the floor to start crying. Vegeta slowly stood from his chair to look over the table at her. What was she doing? He found her sitting on her knees with her hands pressed to the wooden cabinets in front of her as well as her forehead. She trembled all over and great sobs escaped her lips.

"Woman I don't know what is wrong, nor do I care, but my dinner isn't going to cook itself! Now get up and cook!" he growled as he walked around the table so he could look down at her. She nodded her head but didn't move. After a few minutes of what he guessed was her trying to gain her composure she tried to get up and failed. It was like watching a wingless bird try to fly. Normally he would have found this situation amusing, but he was too hungry to find anything remotely funny.

He reached down and roughly grasped her upper arm and yanked her to her feet. She cried out in pain because he nearly dislocated her arm in the process. He waited for her usual anger but all he got was more tears. His head began to pound as he held her up by one arm. He knew if he let her go, she would end up back on the floor.

Then as if she thought he was the one who could cure whatever was wrong with her she threw herself at him. He stiffened and released her arm as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest. Every inch of her pressed against him and he could feel her tremble as she cried. She soaked his training shirt with her tears after only a few seconds. He stared down at her unsure whether to kill her by blasting her, or by hitting her.

"He left me," she mumbled finally as her hands made fists with the back of his shirt. He left? Why would that idiot leave her? Didn't that dunce know he would get no one on this planet that was better than this annoying blue haired woman that clung to him now? Vegeta stood stone still as he let his thoughts race through his mind. That man must be a bigger idiot than he thought.

Vegeta found this woman to be a nuisance but even he knew her worth as an Earthling. That is why he allowed himself to stay here. She gave him a place to stay, a place to train, and a place at her table. She treated him like the royalty that he was. She treated that weakling the same, so why did the weakling leave?

He then looked down at the top of her head, unsure what to do.

"_Just please stay away from that man…"_

Yamacha's words still clung to her mind, yet here she stood with her arms wrapped tightly around Vegeta. The very man Yamacha wanted her to stay away from. She knew though that she was not crying into Vegeta's shirt because she wanted to. She was weak at the moment and she needed to cry to someone. And he unfortunately was the only one standing close enough for her. She wished that he was her mother though. Her mother would stroke her hair and whisper that everything would be okay. All Vegeta did was tense up and felt like a rigid rock beneath her. Why of all the people on this planet she had a crush on him? And because of that meaningless crush her relationship had been destroyed.

All that succeeded in was more tears. She fisted her hands with his shirt and cried harder. She wanted to be angry with Yamacha, she wanted to do everything that would get back at him, but all she could do was hang her head and cry because she knew she was in the wrong.

Finally, which was longer than what Bulma had thought Vegeta would allow her anyways, he grabbed a hold of her shoulders and pushed her away. It wasn't a harsh shove, nor was it particularly gentle. She let go of his shirt and her arms slid across his back and then to her sides. She looked up into his dark narrowed eyes. She had no clue what he could be thinking in his dark mind, but she could tell he was not pleased by her actions.

"Cook," he demanded as he pointed his chin the now boiling water on the stove. Immediately she went to cooking again in a frenzy to distract herself from what just happened. She knew now that no matter what, Vegeta was going to find her weaker than he already thought she was. That should have angered her, but she didn't have the strength to care at the moment.

After she cooked as much food as she could she served it to him at the table in the kitchen. She watched as he waited patiently until she sat the last plate of food down before he dug in. She stood back and watched him neatly devour his food. She sighed knowing that she would have to clean his plates, but she honestly wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and never return. She cleared her throat to get his attention. When he looked up she asked if there was anything else he required before she went to bed. She would worry about the dishes in the morning.

They stared at each other for a few moments before he shook his head no at her. She nodded hers and then left. Once in her room she fell on her bed and cried herself into a dark dreamless sleep.

When she finally woke it was still dark outside and a glance at the clock told her that it was 3 in the morning. She rolled over away from the clock and touched the spot where Yamacha once rested his head. She expected more tears but none came as she grazed her fingers lovingly over the comforter. A little part of her had hoped that he would come back and she would wake up and he would be here. He wasn't though and she learned that it meant that they were really done. She chewed her bottom lip until it bled, but even then no tears came. Maybe she really had no more tears to cry about what was.

Then she heard something outside in the hallway. She rose into a sitting position and listened intently. There was someone walking towards her room. Her heart rose into her throat and as fast as she could she raced to the door and flung it open. Yet when she raced into the hallway, throwing her arms around someone's neck, she realized that it was not Yamacha who was standing there. She didn't comprehend who it was until she was roughly shoved into the wall and a hand was on her throat. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hallway just enough that she could see the deep scowl on Vegeta's face.

Her lower lips trembled as she stared into the darkness of his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing woman?" he asked in a low growl. His hand stayed around her neck but he didn't squeeze or hurt her in anyway.

"I hoped that you were Yamacha," she admitted meekly. He growled and took a step towards her.

"Don't ever make that mistake again. I am not that weakling. In fact you should count yourself lucky that he is gone. He held you back, I am sure. You will do yourself and me a favor and forget about him. You have bigger things to worry about, like pleasing me. In a few hours after my work out I will be hungry, and you better not make the same mistake you made last night. I will not be pleased if my breakfast is not waiting for me when I come back in."

He did not notice that as he spoke he kept getting closer to her until his mouth was right next to her ear, but she noticed in terror. He had growled every word and she found herself shivering because of the harsh edge his tone had. Bulma had never been a submissive woman, but when Yamacha left yesterday, something in her snapped. Maybe she was still down, falling into depression, but whatever it was made her nod her head. "Yes Vegeta," she whispered.

He backed away letting her go as if she had burned him. She looked up into his eyes confused. Only problem was that he stared down at her, just as confused. He huffed and then started back towards the stairs, the way he had been going when she had ambushed him. She knew she was lucky that she hadn't taken him off guard otherwise she would be dead.

"Vegeta," she called, stopping him right before he reached the stairs.

"What?" he barked as he looked over his shoulder at her. She watched as a deep scowl settled on his face as he waited to see what she had to say.

"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked as she downcast her gaze. She didn't have to see him to know he was narrowing his eyes at her. He didn't trust her, he never had since he had come to live here. She didn't want to look into the eyes of another man who didn't approve of her so she stared at her feet waiting for her answer.

"Meat. Lots of meat," he said.

When she looked back up, he was gone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He pushed himself up with one hand under the 400 times gravity. Sweat poured over his bare skin and onto the floor of the gravity chamber. The force was pulsing through every fiber of his being and it hurt. Every time he went down and touched his chin to the floor, it took everything he had not to just let himself fall to the ground. Every time he pushed up back into the air, it took more than he had to rise.

His training had been going well and he was becoming used to the feel of the 300 times gravity, but it was hard. He had actually told himself that it was going to be easy, how wrong he had been. He didn't know why he allowed himself to fool himself, but he did. He learned the hard way that it was far from easy, it was real work. Not that he minded, he was one with himself when he was training or fighting. He strived to be better and he was determined to meet his goal.

Sweat dripped off his chin when he lowered himself down. All of his muscles, joints, ligaments, and tendons trembled under the pressure. He despised the fact that he still left this place each day with an injury. He knew eventually he would toughen up and it helped that he got stronger every time he healed. It just didn't help that he couldn't heal enough from wound before he created another.

Already today he had burned the side of his face with an energy blast he had not been able to avoid, and he hadn't even healed from the few cracked ribs that he suffered from. None of it stopped him, none of it. He was a Saiyan, and he would never give up. He would be better than Kakorrot. Just the thought that he was close to becoming legendary like Kakarot helped him push himself up one last time. Which meant that he had succeeded in doing 100 more one handed pushups than he had done yesterday.

He let himself slowly slide to the floor and lie on his belly on the hot floor and let himself catch his breath. It took him no time to start to even out his breathing. He felt his eyes start to close and he quickly jerked himself awake so he would not fall asleep again on the floor like he had a few weeks ago. He one more time pushed himself onto his feet and then turned off the machine. Instantly he felt too light and his legs wobbled because of it.

It took longer than he liked for the sensation of normal to return to him. Once it did though a small smile graced his lips. He looked out of the window of the gravity chamber and saw that it was nearly dark outside. Another smile graced his lips when his stomach growled accordingly. It was time to eat and that insipid woman better have his meal ready.

He stepped outside when the door opened. He instantly scented the air and to his pleasure he smelled his food. He knew it was his, for it would belong to no one else. He started towards the house and he knew that the servant woman was more than likely going to give him a headache from her bitching because he had missed both breakfast and lunch. He had done it one purpose though. He would rather hear her yelling than see her cry again.

It wasn't as if he cared, because he didn't, it was just her crying was the vilest thing he had ever witnessed. She whimpered in her sleep pretty much all night and it had kept him awake. He was not sure if she really stayed up all night crying or if she just cried in her sleep, either way it had made it hard for him to rest. He wanted to shake her until she never cried again, but he knew that it would only make her cry more. He found himself sighing as he reached the door.

He opened it and saw on the little table in the kitchen held most of his dinner, the rest of it sat out on the counter next to the table. He was pleased to see it all finished. He was not pleased to find her sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea, staring at the wall like she was in a daze. At least he saw no tears. He could deal with a blank stare, just not the whining.

He took the seat across from her which instantly startled her. She jumped out of her chair and spilled her tea in the process. After she was done being distressed she tucked some of her straight blue hair out of her eye and behind her ears. She cursed under her breath and started to search for something around the room.

"I did not spill anything on you did I, Vegeta?" she questioned in a devoid of emotion tone. Her voice was just as dejected as it was last night. Yet to his happiness, there was no tears.

"No, and you better be glad you didn't, woman," he spat as he started to dig into his food. It all tasted too good. He watched her as he ate though. She cleaned up her mess and after she finished she ran water over her hand at the sink. She stayed there a little while and the longer she stood there the more he wondered what she was doing.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously after he swallowed some of the food he had in his mouth.

"I spilled some of the tea on my hand when you startled me. I am easing the burn with cold water," she explained as she still let the cool water run over her hand. He was more than surprised that she had not once yelled at him yet over anything. She had not yelled about him missing meals, no yelling about him sneaking up on her, nothing.

"It isn't my fault that you didn't hear me come in," he barked before he tore into more of the food sitting in front of him. He thought that she would turn around like she always had done before and yell at him. Yet she just stood there staring at her hand.

"I know, it was my fault, I was too busy thinking," she explained in a sad voice. He looked up and suppressed a growl. He didn't know it until then, he liked her fiery attitude. This new sadness that he was confronted with, he didn't like. He could hardly believe he had this little revelation. It unnerved him to realize this, even if he despised this woman, she was a mental challenge for him. He liked all challenges to be honest, and she always forced him to think. She was smart, he would give her credit for that, and she never backed down from his anger. Yet now, she seemed… broken.

She finally turned off the sink and then turned to look into his dark eyes. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, or even if she was thinking. Her eyes were bloodshot, and looked heavy from being tired. He swallowed his last bit of food and then pushed the plate away as they continued to stare at each other. Neither of them spoke for a while, and he thought that at any moment she was bound to break out into tears, but he was afraid to speak in case of the same results.

"The side of your face is burned," she stated suddenly. Yet usually when she noticed his wounds she shrieked in a worried/angry tone. Her voice now just fell out of her mouth without a hint of emotion.

"I know," he growled at her. She nodded and then turned and pulled a first aid kit that her father had started keeping under the cabinets since he had moved in. She walked towards him and laid the kit on the table after moving some of the plates out of the way. He watched her pull out some burn relief and gauze so she could put some on his face, if he would allow her that is.

"May I?" she asked as she finally looked at him after gathering everything she needed. It was the first time she had ever asked to help him. Every other time she had forced her help on him whether he liked it or not. He gave her a nod and then turned his face so she could care for it. He found since she asked he wanted her help. He knew it was strange, but she had asked. He also knew that if he had said no, she would just have put away the kit obediently.

She was careful as she smoothed the burn gel over his flesh. It took her only a moment to finish the task and when she was done and backed away from him with her eyes downcast. He sighed when she moved away from him. He could not take it any longer. He had to know what made her change the way she was.

"Woman, what the hell is your problem?" he yelled at her. Usually she would cut her eyes at him and yell back. This time she just put away the medical kit and then just stood near the counter with her back to him. He could smell the salt in the air suddenly and he knew she was crying again.

"I told you yesterday Yamacha left me," she said. He knew she had told him that, but why was she still acting as if it was the end of her world.

"And I told you to get over it," he barked at her as he stood from the table and placed his hands on it for balance. He was still a tad fatigued from his workout and he didn't want to look weak in front of an actual weakling.

Then the sobbing began again. The noise grated murderously on his ears. He should have just eaten his meal and went to bed without even mentioning a damned thing. He felt anger building up in his chest and he tried hard to push it back down into his stomach so he would not lash out at her. Without her, he had nowhere to go. He needed this woman if he wanted to train and have a place to lay his head at the end of the day. So his angry bursts with her could only be minor.

"It is hard to get over, Vegeta. I loved him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and he left me," she explained through her sobbing. Vegeta began laughing then, it helped to quell his anger when he laughed. She was really dumber than he thought, and he was about to give her a piece of his mind about the entire situation. He was not much for giving advice, but he needed her to get over this otherwise he would be leaving himself.

"Look woman, the man left you. You were willing to give him your life and he left. If you were to ask me he is the one who is going to miss out. If I were you I would count myself lucky and realize that my time was wasted on someone who cared so much about me that they left me. Get over him. He was worthless and I am sure you much better off."

She turned to look at him as if she wanted to believe his rare words of advice. He crossed his arms over his chest and made his face seem passive. Yet she had not stopped crying and another sob fell from her mouth.

"That is the thing Vegeta. It is my fault he left. I pushed him away because of… because of my own stupidity."

"Then you should be happy he has left if you wanted him gone!" he yelled. He didn't not understand what the hell she was talking about. The weakling left because she pushed him away? Well why would she push him away if she wanted the weakling? None of it made an ounce of sense and it left a sour taste in his mouth that he stayed to find out what she meant. He was curious to learn more about Earthlings, and he didn't even know he was curious.

"I didn't want to push him away. It just happened that my actions pushed him away," she whispered as she tried to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. She really was pathetic and she was confusing him even more.

"What could you have possibly have done to make him leave? And why did you not do it sooner?" he asked before he could stop himself. He did not miss the weakling one bit and he wondered why she hadn't done this sooner to save him from having to go to be every night enraged. There were many times he wanted to skin the human alive to sait his need to watch the man die.

"I care too much about…" her voice trailed off and she slapped her hand over her mouth as if she almost told him a dark secret.

They made eye contact and his brows furrowed together as they stared at each other.

"Out with it woman! You cared too much for what?" he asked as he continued to stare at her. He watched as her hand slid away from her mouth. He waited patiently for her to speak.

"It does not matter. And you are right Vegeta, I need to get over him," she said as she turned quickly and retreated out of the kitchen. He sighed once she left. He rolled his eyes and then frowned. He would have to sleep in the capsule tonight because he did not want to be disturbed all night again by her. There was a part of him that wanted to chase her down and make her explain more, but his head was killing him by now and he wanted nothing more than to get away from her.

At least she knew that he was right, even though he didn't understand what had really happened. He didn't care though. All he needed was her to cater to his needs, and for her not to cry ever again. He would rather her yell at her the rest of her life than to hear her cry, and it was because the sound made his already sensitive ears burn. It took most of his strength not to claw off his ears. He was not sure why it hurt so much to hear that noise but it did. He wondered if leaving wasn't a bad idea, it would be better than having to worry if she was going to make that infuriating sound again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She ended up in her personal study; it was about the only room that didn't remind her of Yamacha. She worked quietly on some documents that she was supposed to have signed months ago for a Capsule Corps space project. Instead of approving them though, she denied the requests. During this time they needn't worry about space exploration. They needed to worry about making things to defend Earth.

She knew the papers would go on to her father after she was done denying them. Hopefully he would see reason and approve her refusal. Her father was a brilliant man, surely he would understand why she thought it wasn't a good idea to start a space center.

She sat back in her high backed leather chair with a long sigh once she was done. She glanced at the clock and realized that she had managed to only waste away an hour signing the documents. She looked around her office and noticed it was on the messier side. Bulma had never been the tidiest person but she decided that she wanted to make a positive change with herself. She didn't quite understand what brought on the sudden urge to clean but she did. After a few moments her office was the tidiest it had been in months and she smiled to herself.

Glancing back to the clock though she realized that she had only wasted another 20 minutes. So there went a hour and twenty minutes that she didn't spend thinking of Yamacha or Vegeta. Yet now she had nothing to distract her so her mind wandered into thoughts about the both of them.

She gently chewed the bottom of her sore lip. She had been worrying it a lot since Yamacha left and it was thoroughly bruised and she wore a bloody welt on it. After hissing in pain she forced herself to stop torturing her bottom lip. She pulled out a tube of chapstick the she kept in the top drawer of her desk and put some on her lips. Hopefully it would help speed up the healing and make her stop chewing on it.

After she put away the chapstick she thought about Vegeta. He was a cocky asshole, even through her depression she still thought that. She just didn't have the energy to actually argue with him. He was right about one thing though. She needed to move on.

His words floated around her head as if they were trying to still convince her of the truth: _Look woman, the man left you. You were willing to give him your life and he left. If you were to ask me he is the one who is going to miss out. If I were you I would count myself lucky and realize that my time was wasted on someone who cared so much about me that they left me. Get over him. He was worthless and I am sure you much better off._

Vegeta was wise in this matter though. She offered Yamacha a lot and he left. She had a crush on Vegeta, that was for sure, but was it really enough to warrant him leaving her? It was not as if she were actively pursuing the Prince of all Saiyans… or had she been without realizing it? Fresh tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She was so confused. She knew that Yamacha must have seen something that she hadn't.

Her head sank into her hand and she let out a deep sob. She felt like she was dying. What was that infuriating saying? You don't know what you had until it was gone? Another sob racked her body. That saying was so true. She didn't know how much she loved Yamacha until he was gone. She had taken him for granted. Maybe that is what he saw? It had of been. If she were in his shoes, she was sure she would have felt the same way. She might have even left as well.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was walking back to the Gravity Chamber when he heard her again. She was crying… again. His skin crawled and he let go a growl. What the hell was wrong with that woman? Had she not been listening to a damned word he had been saying to her? He was not a man of compassion and he had shown her about as much as he possibly could even try to muster. Yet instead of heeding his words she chose to make that impossible noise again?

Or was she really just that sensitive? Is this what love did to people? If so he would rather choke to death than experience it. He couldn't fathom why humans let themselves feel this way. Kakarot was even like this over his loved ones. Maybe this planet just made people weak. Not him though. He refused to become one of the worthless drones that inhabited this planet. After destroying the Androids he would destroy all the emotionally unstable ones next.

Anyone who dared acted like the blue haired harpy would perish. If he wanted to become the ruler of this planet, he needed to surround himself with people who were like minded. He ended up laughing as he entered the chamber. What an idea: outlaw crying. Could that even be done? He sighed knowing it couldn't. Yet he would make the Earthlings think twice about doing so in front of him.

He shut the door behind him and it securely locked out her suffering noises. At last he was at peace again.


End file.
